Advent Week 2: Move Over Santa…

When I was really little, I believed in Santa Claus. Yes, I left cookies and milk and fell asleep in the big rocking chair in the living room waiting to meet him when he came bearing presents for our family.  However, as I grew up a bit, by the time I was in late elementary school, I had grown to somewhat despise Santa. I had figured out (or was told on the playground) that he was a fake and I got mad that he was stealing the true meaning and emphasis of Christmas – the birth of Jesus, our Savior! Needless to say, I’ve never gotten into decorating for Christmas with a Santa theme or wearing a Santa hat to celebrate the coming of my King. 

As I’ve grown up even more, I’ve come to learn about St. Nicholas, the real guy who lived and worshiped the same Jesus I think Santa Claus has distracted the world from seeing.  December 6^th is St. Nicholas Day, a day to remember who St. Nicholas was.  I remembered this part-way through the morning on Monday (Dec. 6^th), so with very little forethought, our family jumped into celebrating this special day.  I dug out a children’s book I had brought along that explains that St. Nick was actually a very kind, generous man who sought to live his life serving others, particularly those who did not have enough.  Enough food, enough money, enough clothing…enough in the sense of surviving and thriving in life — not enough presents to feel happy (as the materialistic Santa leads us to believe we deserve). 

After reading this book to Micah (a few times in a row, as any toddler will beg), we continued talking about what it means to do nice things for people in secret.  St. Nicholas always gave in secret so as not to be discovered for his good deeds.  Of course, sometimes he was “caught” and enough people shared stories of his generosity that after he died, the Church recognized him as a saint for what a good example of Christian living he was to the world, but I can still appreciate his effort to be anonymous.

On Monday and Thursday mornings we have a Malawian woman come to help with housework.  We hired her to help with the dishes, cleaning the floors, scrubbing the bathrooms, hanging the laundry, baking bread, holding Rachel out of the way while Jonathan and I attempt to wash the dog…the list varies from week to week, but I am so thankful for her work!  I like to share our traditions with her and learn about hers.  Last week I explained the Advent wreath I had made and she said that her church has one too.  This week I told her about St. Nicholas Day…she had never heard of Santa Claus*, let alone St. Nicholas.  If you’re reading from North America, it is unheard of not to have heard of Santa Claus!  But, step into her shoes for a minute.  She’s grown up in Malawi and probably hasn’t traveled outside the country which is around the size of Pennsylvania.  Although she lives in a city, she most often shops in the open air markets for vegetables and rice or maize to mill into flour for nsima. Celebrating Christmas consists of going to church for a special celebration of Jesus’ birth with extra singing and maybe even dancing, and if she has enough extra money, she’ll share in a feast of extra rice and vegetables and maybe some meat and fruit that day.  No Christmas cookies (no oven), no Christmas tree (that’s a pretty western idea), no Christmas lights (electricity is expensive and may not reach her house) and maybe even no presents (no extra money for anything beyond food and clothes and maybe school fees for her 5 children).

Micah and I made a “Happy St. Nicholas Day” card that said something to the effect of “May your day be filled with good blessings from our good God.  Micah snuck 2 muffins, freshly baked that morning, next to her bag so she would find them on her way out.  As I explained who St. Nicholas was by saying he was a man who lived out what Jesus said by giving to the poor, I realized I was talking to the poor.  I realized I was talking to a widow.  I realized she did not know what a saint was and had never had Santa Claus distract her in Christmas preparations or celebrations.  I was humbled.

Whenever I have given our house helper a gift like a roll from Thanksgiving or a small bag of popcorn leftover from my birthday, she doesn’t dare eat it then.  She takes it home, no matter how small it is, to share with her children.  It reminds me that many people in Malawi and many, many parts of the world live drastically different from the “normal” middle class lifestyle I am used to.  It makes me think harder about what I buy at the grocery store, what gifts I give to my children and how we decide to give out of our plenty, even when we don’t feel like our plenty is very much.